The Fight For Survival
by Veserus
Summary: Not everything is as it seems when, in revenge, Voldemort sends Hermione swirling into the past
1. The Beginning

Disclaimer: I do not own most of the characters or settings in this story. The honour belongs solely to JK Rowling. I suspect that I do not even own half of the plot, as this has been influenced by the numerous fanfics I've read. 

Summary: Not everything is as it seems when Voldemort's revenge sends Hermione swirling into the past. 

**The Beginning**

As I lay down on the luxurious black satin sheets of my large four poster bed that my minion provided for me, I feel the indescribable agony coursing through every sinew of my body. My arms feel like dead weight and they scream so badly I can barely lift them to wipe the sweat of my brow. My legs are so weak they will no longer support my slight frame. I see my hands, once long and thin, elegant some would say. But now they are skeletal, throbbing in pain. The mere motions of closing my eyelids make me want to cry out. Breathing is agony. But the worst pain I feel comes from my chest, where my heart once lived. There is a sensation there which I cannot explain, something that they did to me. It is a magic that I have never seen before. But a dying wizard must be honest with himself. I have seen it before. The first time I was almost destroyed.

My body may be destroyed, but my mind is still lucid. I remember the last battle so clearly, the battle that brought me to this sorry state. The memory of it invades every moment of my waking and sleeping hours. How he once again defeated me and left me barely a hollow shell. It should not have happened this way! I am Lord Voldemort! No wizard has the power to defy me, especially not a boy. But he has friends. I remember. He and his little friends together defied all logic and left me almost defenceless. I still don't know how they managed it. Three snivelling little children defeated the greatest dark lord ever to live. 

I feel like screaming, as I once again feel the waves of pain. I will not succumb to the pain. I will not show weakness, even at the end.

I remember the three of them well. First, there is the little Mudblood; she will get what is coming to her. She does not respect her place. I can remember her face as she stood facing me, defiant. As if she was every bit as good as me, the heir of Slytherin! She is beneath all wizards, yet this little Mudblood whore is the brains of the three. Then there is the loyal friend. He is the blood-traitor. He is neither intelligent nor powerful, he is always outmatched. Yet he stands by the others' side, and fights to the end. He is the spirit that holds the group together. And at the heart is Harry Potter. Little Harry Potter, the baby who left me a hollow shell, and the adolescent who did it again, fifteen years later. He has been a thorn in my side for far too long. Too many times he has thwarted my plans and those of my Death Eaters. And this time, this time I fear that he has thwarted me for good. 

As another spasm goes through me I start to think that maybe the old fool was right; there are worse things than death, and I am living it now. There can be nothing worse than the pain I am feeling right now. Another wave of agony strikes, and this time I scream out loud. I hope I am not heard. The spasms are coming more frequent and I can feel the end coming, and with it a certain peace.

With these thoughts I start to shake. No! The worst thing there is in this world is death. Death is nothing. Oblivion. There can never be anything worse than to no longer exist. While I am still alive there is still hope. To die knowing I was defeated by children is worse than living with this horrible suffering. I will survive … again. It is different this time. My servants are still with me.

All those who dared not to succumb to my will shall pay dearly with their lives in the most painful way possible, and those three shall be the first of many. They underestimate my power. They will all cower before me.

The fools think they can destroy me? I can never be destroyed! Only I know the secret of defeating mortality. Only I can cheat death. Twice I should have been killed, but I have survived. And this time I will arise more powerful than ever before. I feel a sly smile form on my lips. I know just how to achieve it. I begin to laugh. A plan develops before my eyes. It is purely superb in its cunning. The vindictiveness of my plan shall serve me greatly. I shall restore myself to health, and destroy the three who put me in this state at the same time.

Using every ounce of strength I have left I drag myself over to the armchair beside the bed. The move is torturous but I know I must present myself in the chair before I send for my servant. I do not want to show weakness by lying helpless in bed in front of my minions. 

I see a wooden idol on the bedside table. I try to pick it up but in my current state even its light weight is too heavy for my aching arms. Still, I can see its exquisite making and I am pleased with it. The craftsmanship is flawless. It is a life-size model of a human skull, coloured green, with the head of a snake protruding from its mouth. I had acquired this idol in my youth, almost fifty years ago during my wanderings, before I truly became Lord Voldemort. When I learnt of its power I knew I had found my sign, the sign that all would one day fear, and it was through this idol that I designed the dark mark which my servants each sought to have marked to their left forearms. With a simple touch of my wand on its surface I use this idol to call my servant.  

My servants are always attentive, for they know the consequences of tardiness. He arrives promptly, and kneels on one knee by the bedside with his silver head bowed.

"Look into my eyes, Lucius." I hear that my voice is croaky and weak. No matter, it won't be for long. 

My servant raises his head and looks me in the eye. I delight in seeing the fear of others, even of my most loyal supporters. Even now, in my time of desperation, my servants fear me. This knowledge gives me strength.

"Lucius," I say. "I have a little task for you."

I see the normally arrogant guise of one of my most loyal Death Eaters cower before me and I am amused by it. 

"Anything, my Lord," Lucius snivels, and I laugh, a loud cackling bellow. 


	2. The SetUp

Disclaimer: I do not own most of the characters or settings in this story. The honour belongs solely to JK Rowling. I suspect that I do not even own half of the plot, as this has been influenced by the numerous fanfics I've read. 

**Chapter 2: The Set-up**

Hermione was just sitting down to a relaxing breakfast of fruits and cereal with her parents when a barn owl swooped in through their dining room window.

"Arrggg!" Mrs Granger screamed, and then started giggling. She was very supportive of her daughter, but even after six years she could still get startled at some of the things that could happen around the house when there was a witch in the family.

Hermione smiled happily at her mother and got up to fetch the letter that the owl was carrying for her.

"Oh, it's from Hogwarts," Hermione exclaimed excitedly, "I can't wait to see what the booklist is this year. I've really got to start studying. There's only four weeks left until school starts."

"But sweetheart, you've been studying every day," Mrs Granger pointed out. Both Mr and Mrs Granger were workaholics, but they thought that sometimes their daughter could take it to extremes.

"That's just revision from last year, mum. N.E.W.Ts is this year, and they are really important as they determine what careers you can get into," Hermione explained. As she was opening her letter, a badge fell out of it onto the floor. Hermione picked up the badge and squealed when she saw what it was.

"I'm head girl mum!" Hermione started jumping up and down and crying, and her mother decided to jump into the foray. Mr Granger watched on, proud of his only daughter.

"Well done, Hermione," Mr Granger said, smiling.

"Thanks, dad," Hermione managed after taking a few deep breaths.

"I've got to write to Ron and Harry! I wonder who the head boy is!" And Hermione raced up to her bedroom, forgetting both her breakfast and her booklist.

***

A couple of days later, Hermione still hadn't come down from her utopia. She had literally dragged her parents out of bed this morning, determined to get to Diagon Alley. They had books and supplies to buy. Ron and Harry were supposed to be meeting them at the Leaky Cauldron at midday.

"Well, here we are, Hermione. It's 10 past 11, so we have plenty of time to kill before we meet up with the Weasleys," Mr Granger said. "There's a new supplier of dentist supplies just down the road I'd like to investigate. Do you want to come with us, Hermione?"

Hermione, thinking that she'd rather listen to Ron and Harry rabbit on about Firebolts than looking at dentist supplies with her parents, rapidly declined.

"Ah, no thanks dad. I might go to the apothecary in Diagon Alley if I could. They generally have some good potions textbooks." 

"Of course, Hermione. We'll see you in 50 minutes, dear." And Mr and Mrs Granger walked out of the Leaky Cauldron into muggle London, while Hermione went in the other direction into Diagon Alley.

Hermione was walking briskly to the apothecary, excitedly anticipating meeting up with Ron and Harry again. They had so much to catch up on. She would have to chastise them about their lack of study ethics, of course. Hermione would be willing to bet all the galleons in her purse that they hadn't opened a book all summer.

 As Hermione was approaching the front door of the apothecary, she saw, from the corner of her eye, a horribly familiar figure skulking into an alleyway. Hermione jerked her head towards the alley, hoping for a better look. Her heart started thumping loudly in fright. After her last encounter with the long silver haired dark wizard last year, Hermione had no desire for a repeat performance. Slowly backing away, Hermione was able to mix in with a group of witches who were walking past at the time, trying to hide in case she was seen. She took a good hard look at the alleyway when she passed, but saw no-one there. Not wanting to double check, she headed back to the Leaky Cauldron.

Hermione waited at the Leaky Cauldron for the others to arrive. It was still only 11.30, another half an hour to wait. Hermione felt a little foolish for her cowardice. There was no guarantee that she had actually seen Lucius Malfoy, she had only caught a glimpse from the corner of her eye. It could have been anything; a bird, or a shadow, but she was certain that she had caught the faintest glimpse of long silver hair and an elegant emerald robe as it drifted into the alleyway. As impossible as it sounded that Lucius Malfoy was in Diagon Alley, Hermione felt it was safest to stay in the protection of the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for the others to arrive.

Eventually, right on the tick of midday, she saw Ron and Harry flooing into the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace. As usual, Harry ended up on his knees when he landed.

Hermione rushed over to the fireplace to greet her friends. "Ever so graceful, Harry," Hermione laughed, and with the sight of her two best friends, all thoughts of the alleyway simply washed away.

Harry grinned sheepishly up at her, his face covered in soot.

"We got your letter, Hermione. Congratulations," Ron said with an ear-to-ear grin. He stepped forward to give Hermione a congratulatory hug. Harry rose from his position on the ground to also add his congratulations to Ron's.

"Thankyou. I'm so excited! Imagine the benefits this will give me when I'm career searching. Speaking of which, have you two been studying? N.E.W.Ts are ever so important you know …"

"Alright, alright!" Ron exclaimed, holding onto his head. "Just don't end up like Percy, alright." Although Percy was still power-hungry, he had partially made amends with his family. He was not living at the Burrow, but they were at least on speaking terms.

Smiling, Hermione said, "Agreed."

Just then, Mr Weasley came through the fireplace. "Hermione! Hello, how are you!" he said, shaking Hermione's hand enthusiastically. Then he quickly added, "Are your parents here?" and excitedly looked around, eager to talk to Hermione's muggle parents. 

"They'll be here soon, Mr Weasley," Hermione answered, just as Mrs Weasley, followed by Ginny, flooed through. She loved the Weasleys like family.

"Good, good. Shall we have some lunch then?" Everyone rapidly agreed.

After a heartening meal of steak, chips and salad, everyone was ready to tackle the shopping. The first stop for Ginny was Madam Malkin's, because she needed new robes. "You're growing like a weed, Ginny," Mrs Weasley had said.

Harry, Ron and Hermione, not needing new robes, went to Flourish and Blotts for their books. Hermione, as usual, had her bag overflowing with books for she was taking every subject it was possible to take without resorting to a time turner. After suffering for an entire term in her third year, she did not want to do that again. Ron and Harry's bags were somewhat smaller.

"Hermione, you should really try to relax a bit more. There's more to life than just studying, you know," Ron said through a mouthful of ice-cream, as they were sitting in Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor after their shopping.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron. She was used to this as every year since Hermione had known Ron he had never failed to criticize her on her strict study habits.

Just then, Hermione noticed a familiar wizard rushing excitedly up to them. It was Dedalus Diggle. Hermione recognised him as being one of the Order, and she knew that if he wasn't Harry's number one fan, he was pretty close to the top of the list.

"Harry!" Diggle exclaimed.

"Er- Mr Diggle," Harry replied.

"I just wanted to congratulate you on another wonderful performance in defeating –" Diggle looked around him nervously in case someone overheard him, before continuing in a hushed tone, "You-Know-Who." Harry hadn't even had time to rise to greet Diggle properly as Diggle shook his hand enthusiastically.

"Er- thanks, but it wasn't really –"

"Splendid, absolutely superb!"

"But Ron and Hermione –"

"Yes, I see you have your friends here, hi you'll. Well, I must be off," and Diggle shook Harry's hand again before rushing off, on the way tripping over a mass of Gobstones that a small child from the table next to theirs had spilt all over the ground.

"Still famous, Harry," Ron noted smiling, but trying very hard not to appear jealous.

Harry scowled. "Why can't these people see that it wasn't just me in that storehouse? We were all in this together."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other but said nothing. It was obvious that on some level they agreed.

"Hermione, you're the one who spent months in the library," Harry explained.

"Well, that wasn't just me. We were all there, researching and training," Hermione responded.

"But you were the one who found the spells to defeat Voldemort. And Ron –"

"I didn't do anything really. Like always, I just tagged along," Ron said.

Harry wasn't the least bit deterred. "If it hadn't been for you holding the Death Eaters off, we would never have had the time to perform any of the spells."

"It was just a blocking spell against the door. Any of us could have done it. Besides, they got through eventually, didn't they? And I have this nice little memento to show for it," Ron explained, holding up his right forearm, which showed a rather large, thick, purplish scar. It extended from just below his wrist, curved slightly around his arm to finish just above his elbow. Ron had received this from a huge slither of wood when the Death Eaters had finally managed to blast through his blocking charm which had exploded to door to pieces.

"It was enough, Ron. The point is, we were all in it together, and we should all have gotten equal credit." Harry looked at the two of them with a sheepish grin on his face. "Besides, I was looking forward to sharing the fame for a while, instead of it all being on me." They all laughed a little at that. 

"Don't worry about it, mate." Ron assured.

"We didn't do it for credit. Seeing You-Know-, I mean Voldemort, destroyed was the important thing. Names in the paper don't matter." Hermione pointed out logically.

Harry nodded his head, conceding the point, but added, "He's not really destroyed, though, is he?"

Hermione was waiting for this. While the rest of the wizarding was taking a much needed rest, Harry was as desolate as always. "He's as good as dead. At least we can enjoy some peace for a while."

This time Harry shook his head. "Was it really good enough though? If he comes back, we'll have to do this all over again."

"Look around, Harry," Hermione insisted. "Look at Dedalus Diggle, for example. Everyone's happy again. For an entire year, everyone was too scared to even walk out of their homes, and most people were too scared to even stay inside their homes. It was a terrible time for everybody. We all know that Voldemort is still out there. But we also know that he is too weak to be a threat anymore. Everyone knows that, for now, it is safe. Besides, Dumbledore's on it. He'll get rid of Voldemort easily now that he's weak. He swears that it's not just his body that's destroyed this time. He can barely utter a spell."

Hermione saw that Harry looked uncomfortable about something. "Harry, what is it?"

"Nothing," he said quickly.

"Harry," Hermione insisted.

"Nothing, I swear. It's just that … remember the last time we all became complacent? He came back, and he can come back again. I think now is the time when we really need to be on the alert. Dumbledore said so himself."

"We know." Ron and Hermione said together. 

"But we're all exhausted, and I for one think we really need a break. We did our part, more than our part really. Dumbledore can handle it." Hermione said with absolute confidence.

But throughout the conversation, Hermione eyed Harry closely. It wouldn't be the first time that Harry had held back information, and Hermione was certain that there was something that Harry wasn't telling them again this time.

Appearing more cheerful, Harry nodded and said, "You're right. Dumbledore can handle it. Listen, do you guys want to go to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes before the apothecary? I want to see if I can get that Object Eradicator thing that Ron was telling me about."

"Object Eradicator?" Hermione questioned, glad for the change of subject. Hermione knew about a lot of the stock that the Weasley twins had in their joke shop, many of which she had experienced first hand, but she hadn't heard of this.

 "Yeah, it's supposed to vaporise any object, without anybody knowing it's been vaporised. Like this chair," Ron said, pointing to the chair he was sitting on, "you use the Object Eradicator to vaporise the chair, but you can still see it, so somebody goes to sit down on it, but it's not really there so they fall flat on their backside."

Hermione laughed. "Okay, let's go." 

After they were all stocked up on Object Eradicators, Extendable Ears, and Skiving Snack boxes that the twins had managed to sucker them into buying, they had to go to the apothecary, because they all needed to restock their potions supplies. Hermione felt a brief flutter of fear as she remembered what she had seen, or rather what she thought she'd seen, earlier. She never told Ron or Harry about it since she had made up her mind that it was just her imagination. Lucius Malfoy was wanted by the Aurors. There was a larger price on his head than there ever was on Sirius Black's. There was no way that Lucius Malfoy was in Diagon Alley.

Feeling more comfortable, Hermione entered the apothecary with Harry and Ron. The restocking of ingredients turned out to be non-eventful, and Hermione felt stupid for her earlier fright. 

After paying for their supplies, Harry said, "Ron, do you want to check out that new broomstick?"

"The LightingStreak? For sure! Hermione?"

Ron and Harry burst out laughing at the look of horror on Hermione's face. Seeing the joke, Hermione laughed along with them. 

"Thanks guys, but I think I'll do something that's a little more me." Hermione stated, still giggling.

"Off to the bookstore then," Ron joked.

"See you back at the Leaky Cauldron in half an hour," Harry said, and he and Ron took off.

Little did Ron know that he was absolutely correct. Hermione had discovered this quaint little second-hand bookstore last year. They had some very old and rare titles in there, and when Hermione first saw it she thought that she had struck gold.

Hermione was walking past the alleyway, heading for the bookstore. Just as she was thinking about what subject she was going to start studying tonight, she felt a hand grabbing her arm and pulling her into the alleyway. Thinking it was a joke that her friends dreamed up, Hermione shouted, "Ron, Harry! Stop it!"

"Guess again, Mudblood," came a rich baritone, which was certainly not from Ron or Harry. She knew that voice very well. Hermione froze, dropping her bags. The last time she had heard it was a few months ago, when she had been imprisoned in the basement at Malfoy Manor.

The owner of the voice spun her around so that they were eye to eye. She looked directly into the face of Lucius Malfoy. He was smiling nastily.

"Now, Mudblood, it is about time that somebody put you in your place."

But Hermione Granger was not a Gryffindor for nothing. Not willing to give in without a fight, she kneed Malfoy in the groin, and using the distraction, she grabbed hold of her wand, pointing it at him.  

She cast a stunning hex at Malfoy, but he blocked it easily. Hermione may be the most brilliant witch that Hogwarts had seen in many years, but she was no dark wizard. Lucius Malfoy, having no conscious or ethics, and years of practice in the dark arts, knew more curses than Hermione did books. He was able to disarm her with a quick succession of spells; dark spells which Hermione had never heard before.

In her last stand, Hermione started to scream at the top of her lungs, hoping to attract some help. Malfoy threw a silencing hex at her, and promptly pushed her against the wall.  

Lucius Malfoy had his hand on Hermione's mouth, pressing hard so that her head was crushing into the stone wall behind her. The pain was almost intolerable, but her fear of Lucius Malfoy was even greater. Malfoy's eyes were boring into her, and she could see his normally silver eyes started to darken. Hermione could see Malfoy's lips moving, but couldn't hear what he was saying. Even without knowing what the spell was, however, she could tell that Malfoy was casting some very ancient and very dark magic. Malfoy's eyes continued to darken until they became completely black. A dark grey, almost black smoke started to swirl around Malfoy, and a huge, powerful gust of wind took them. If it wasn't for Malfoy holding her so tightly, she would have been swept away. When Malfoy finished his spell, the smoke all crashed into Hermione. She started gasping for air. When Malfoy let go of her she fell painfully to her knees, and passed out.

***

Hermione slowly opened her eyes. She found herself in the same alley, but it must be hours later as the sun was starting to go down. Hermione tried to get up but as soon as she did her head began to pound. She looked up, thanking the stars that it was no longer day. Even the light from the dusk hurt her eyes. Malfoy was gone. 

Very slowly, trying to break though the pain barrier, Hermione started to rise. Her legs felt like jelly and there wasn't a spot on her body that wasn't in pain. She eventually managed to get herself into a standing position, leaning against the wall, when it finally occurred to her why Ron and Harry had just left her here. Didn't they come looking for her?

Just then Harry came sauntering into the alleyway, followed by Sirius.

'Sirius?' Hermione's fog-addled brain questioned. 'But he's dead.'

But Hermione, not being in her right mind at the moment, didn't dwell on this impossibility. She was just glad to see Harry.

Hermione smiled as widely as she could, which admittedly wasn't very widely because it hurt too much to do so.

"Harry!" she cried weakly, taking a few steps towards him. She stumbled and Harry caught her.

Hermione was just about to pass out again when she heard the Sirius look-alike say to Harry, "Jay, what did she call you?"

***

Hermione woke up some time later in what appeared to be a hospital bed. It was completely white, blindingly so in fact, for Hermione's eyes were still very sensitive.

Hermione just lay there for a while; eyes closed, trying to sort out her thoughts. What had Malfoy done to her? Why hadn't he just killed her, like he's done to so many already? 

Hermione was drifting in and out of sleep, her body still hurt. She was vaguely aware of activity going on around her, and the nurse had stopped in a couple of times to check her vitals. What the nurse said to her, however, Hermione couldn't recall. 

After the sun went down, Hermione sat up, wiped her eyes, opened them, and then promptly closed them again. She thought that the idea of hospital bedding and walls being in white was utterly stupid. Even at night, the colour was painful to her eyes. Hermione tried again, slowly letting her eyes adjust to her surroundings.

Eventually they did, and Hermione looked around her. By her bed was the Daily Prophet. Groggily, she picked up the newspaper, and the first thing she saw was almost enough to make her pass out again. 

It said:

_August 23rd, 1978._

******************


End file.
